In Memory of Tomorrow
by greenteamoose
Summary: ON INDEFINITE HIATUS. A story of Kanda's past. It was a single tragic event that thrust Kanda on the path of an Exorcist. Never looking back, he sought solace in only his memories while he hunted for "that person."
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

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**A/N**: This is my take on Kanda (one of my favorite DGM characters!)'s history up to the beginning of the series. I thought it would be an interesting subject to write about. Now on with the story!

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The frosty sun was frothing in the frozen gray sky, a weather phenomenon now quite typical in Japan. Froi Tiedoll had heard that the haziness was an effect of the breeding population of Akuma festering in the country.

Across the rugged landscape the countryside, the said general of the Black Order and Daisya Barry traveled and wandered around on this hazy day. The latter yawned, scratched his hooded head, and peered sideways at his mentor. When Tiedoll gave no indication on his serene face of having acknowledged his student, the Turkish teenager scowled.

"Shishou," he complained, "how far are we going to walk?"

Tiedoll looked up at the sky and raised his hand to shed his eyes from the light.

"It's cloudy today," he remarked.

"Yes, I noticed!" Daisya snapped. "Isn't Japan supposed to be filled with Akuma? I want some action. I'm so bored now."

Appearing not to have heard him, Tiedoll sighed.

"The last time I came here, there were many beautiful scenes to draw," he said remorsefully. "Now the landscape is so gloomy."

"Shishou," Daisya began in controlled calmness, his impatient temper beginning to reach its zenith.

Suddenly, a crashing, blinding flash beyond the hills filled the skies, rattling the tender earth and raining dusty debris all over the vicinity and the two Exorcists. Almost immediately, the explosion dissipated like crinkled, drying leave falling insignificantly from the sighing trees of autumn.

"What was that?" Daisya gasped, still reeling from the impact.

"Akuma," Tiedoll said quietly. "And a great mass of them."

Without another word, they dashed forward, passing shattered pieces of wooden houses, fresh horse flesh still dripping bright red liquids, and, from time to time, distorted blanched skeletons that looked eerily like those of humans.

When they reached the site of the flash, they recoiled at the ghastly sight of a newly devastated village lying in a resigned acceptance of its sorry bereavement, dead and forever dead. Dark tendrils of smoke still writhed in the heavy air, thin gray snakes hissing ominously towards the heavens. Sporadic craters lined the surroundings like sadistic decorations, deep permanent scars in the groaning earth. And among the nearby fallen shambles of what used to be a perfectly healthy house—

"A human!"

Daisya rushed toward the mangled body and stared down at the lanky body of a boy, a few years younger than he was, with long dark blue hair tousled on the crumbled ground and laced with blood and dirt. At least, he probably was a male despite of his long hair because his bare (clearly masculine) chest was uncovered, the nearby fabric of his _jinbei_(1) ripped and burnt. Upon closer inspection—Daisya knelt closer to him and squinted—there was an unmistakable splotch of black wavy lines on the left side of his chest.

"A Hinduism tattoo," Tiedoll noted softly as he came up to Daisya. "It's the lotus. And—"

Tiedoll held up a glowing sphere of soft green light that was pulsing in suppressed excitement.

"He's compatible with this Innocence."

As though reacting to the presence of the Innocence of which he was destined to be host, the boy stirred and opened a bruised eye: a dark pool grievously drenched with tragedy and suffering and utterly shaken by loss and shock. In great pain, it seemed, he lifted him up slightly and carried protectively in his arm—Daisya noted with a start for the first time—a little girl with the same dark blue hair and pale skin. Her eyes were closed, and she even more splattered by crimson blood than the boy was. Beneath the veiled curtain of her bangs, Daisya thought he could see a black tattoo not dissimilar to the one on the boy's chest.

It brought chills skittering down his spine.

Then the boy began to speak, but it did not really sound like speaking because it seemed like he was croaking. A guttural, cracked sound emitted from his parched lips that were opened by the merest margins. Daisya could barely hear him, but he could clearly detect the distinct desperation that seeped into each word and syllable he articulated.

"Please…" the boy whispered, "please help… her…"

And then he fell into unconsciousness again.

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**GLOSSARY**:

(1) male Japanese clothing worn in the summer. This is according to Wikipedia; I'm not an expert at Japanese customs.

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**A/N**: Fascinating? Intriguing? : D Horrible? (I hope not) : X R&R please!

I've always HOW in the world they can all communicate with each other when they should be speaking different languages?? Yet they're always speaking the same language (aka Japanese rofl) as though they did understand each other. Ahh, the mysterious of international manga/anime-dom! It'd only bruise my brain trying to figure it out, so I'll just take it for granted.

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_D.Gray-Man_ (c) Hoshino Katsura


	2. An Ordinary Day

_Chapter 1_

**An Ordinary Day**

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_**A village in Japan, one week ago**_

Autumn was coming. The unusually cool summer was ending and would soon further congeal itself into the brittleness of its seasonal successor. Patches of weak speckled sunlight sighed through the gashes in the clouds of the sky above to the hazy land of Japan below.

I stood on the middle of the picturesque scene, clad in a stone gray jinbei. Even with my eyes closed, I took no liberty to enjoy this little breeze and the soothing sensation of it caressing my pale cheeks and sifting through my dark blue hair, tied up in a short ponytail. Every nerve of my body stood on alert. My ears took in the slightest sounds in the vicinity. The smallest vibrations hovering in the air. The most discreet trembles of the earth.

Tightly gripped in my hands was the bamboo stick that I often used for practice: frayed, bruised, and jaded from the top of its fading golden tip to the bottom where I grasped it now. Yet it was still in faithfully good condition, so I kept it, cherishing its prim straightness and smooth touch and admiring its hardy durability.

The faintest rustling of leaves.

_Behind._

In one sleek action, I whirled around and blocked the swing of another bamboo stick. The wielder easily changed tactics in a blur of light blue.

_Left_.

I parried the blow once again in a sharp clack of bamboo sticks. Shifting my weight from my back leg to my front one, I drove my stick forward and pushed my opponent back, who slid past a pile of fallen maple leaves, sending a ripple of dry, brown foliage into the air. Without missing a beat, I charged in synchronization with my breaths and my footsteps, stick raised and eyes focused on the target.

Just in time, the other bamboo stick stopped the progress of mine, and there went a heated series of continuous strikes. Narrowing my sharp eyes against the wind, they caught every little movement and every little flash of the foe.

_An opening!_

Swiftly and expertly, I slipped through the opening and knocked the bamboo stick aside, hearing its flight through the air and finally plummeting back to the leafy earth with a satisfying clatter.

I lowered my own stick and pointed it at the throat of my fallen opponent.

"You still need more practice, Yuumi," I said calmly, masking my smug vindictiveness. "You make too many unnecessary moves."

"Says you," she muttered as she glared at me mutinously with her flashing black eyes. "You're just too good, nii-chan… but I'm going to beat you one day!"

"Heh."

Grinning, I helped my younger sister, two years my junior, stand up. As she brushed bits of grass and leaves from her outfit, I glanced at the sky: still the same shade of gray it had retained for the past months but slightly darker. For some reason, I always sensed some sort of foreboding when I looked at the sky. In fact, there had been recent reports of strange monsters attacking villages, and our village itself was beginning to grow restless and uneasy.

_But monsters did not exist_, I mulled bitterly.

"It's getting late," I said to pry my thoughts away from such mysteries. "We should head back now. Kaa-san will start to suspect something."

Aki immediately brightened up from her gloom of conceding defeat at my hands.

"Hai!"

With her usual cheerfulness, she picked up the basket of herbs kaa-san had sent us to gather and bounded across the hill and towards our village. As far as I could remember, she had always been so jovial, and I had always loved to see her shining face, especially when she mastered a particularly challenging martial arts move that I taught her.

All of the trees in our yard bore heavy scars from her constant training with her bamboo stick. Tou-san, whenever he occasionally passed our village during his samurai travels, had furrowed his thick eyebrows and complained in his booming voice about the unsightly state of the trees. I knew, however, he secretly was pleased with her progress. In short, Yuumi was unlike other girls her age and at times seemed more like a little brother to me.

As we moved into the heart of the village, the sweet smell of red beans wafted to my senses. I smiled at the familiar sounds and sights of the bustling village on the verge of plunging into autumn. Despite the onslaught of monster sightings, our village still could not be deterred from its usual seasonal state. Nearby trees would blush crimson at their full glory amidst a sort of golden contentment swelling among the wooden houses. Everywhere, one could pick up snatches of conversation about Mizuki-san's strong son or the budding beauty Ayame-chan or how the tricky Taiyou-kun had pulled a successful prank against the grouchy Kemuri-jiisan.

The teahouse that we called home soon materialized among the rickety wooden structures down the main road of the village. With the skill of one having performed the same routine for half her life, Yuumi tucked both her and my bamboo sticks in a small, nearly unnoticeable hole under the foundation of the house. Dramatically holding out the basket of herbs in front of her, she headed briskly through the doorway of the teahouse, flicking aside the hanging squares of blue cloth. I followed quietly and hoped that this would pass the test this time.

"Kaa-san! We're back!!" she called out happily.

Our mother (who many people said was beautiful and who many of the same people said had passed those genes to Aki and, much to my chagrin, me) approached us stormily, blazing onyx eyes set on her usually serene face.

A sudden wave of foreboding towered over me.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN??" she practically exploded.

I had always been amazed at how such a petit woman could yield such a powerful voice.

"It's been TWO FULL HOURS ever since I sent you to go pluck some basic herbs. TWO HOURS!! It should not have taken that long!!"

"Well, you see …"

"No excuses, Yuumi!! I thought I've told you NOT to play with those bamboo sticks?!"

Yuumi blinked and then seemed to deflate.

"And as for you, Yuu," kaa-san turned towards me. I flinched, trying but failing to block out her flashing eyes and the smirks of the watching teahouse customers.

"How many TIMES have I instructed you to keep your little sister acting like a proper girl?? Your father may be a samurai, but that does not give HER the excuse to play with fake swords. Be a good older brother!!"

With a final huff, she snatched the basket from Yuumi's limp hands and stomped into the kitchen to prepare the next batch of dumplings.

"Let's go, Yuumi…" I muttered, pushing her along.

"Hm…"

She gave me a sad smile with such glistening eyes that it pained me to see her like that. I scrambled for a way to cheer her up.

"At least tou-san will be home soon, right?" I said hurriedly.

"Aa… he said so in a letter."

"Right. So cheer up, Yuumi."

She beamed at me.

"Arigatou, nii-chan. You're the best brother a girl could have!"

I merely smiled sheepishly.

"Come to the kitchen, Yuu," kaa-san suddenly called.

"I'll see you later," Yuumi grinned, bouncing away to our residential quarters.

My smile sliding off my face, I sighed and brushed aside my bangs before trudging to the kitchen, gloomily thinking about the lecture our mother would inevitably give me.

As I entered the scented room, kaa-san was preparing another batch of green tea. With years of experience, her slender hands adeptly worked the kettle and laced through the misty smoke of the hot liquid. In spite of myself, I admired her quick work, and in a matter of seconds, a tray of steaming tea cups, adorned with mochi and dango, was ready.

"Yuu, serve this to Table 12," she instructed.

"Hai, kaa-san."

Gingerly, I lifted the tray and carried it to the said table next to the open window, where an elderly couple was currently sitting and fanning themselves from what remained of the wisps of heat.

"Ah, Yuu-kun," the baa-san greeted me with a crinkled smile. "It's been a while. How old are you this year?"

"Seven years old," I answered as I set their tea cups and sweets onto the table. Streams of faded sunlight from the window danced gently upon the plates.

"Seven, is it," the jii-san repeated thoughtfully.

He ran his crooked yet nimble fingers through his wispy gray beard as he spoke. His faded eyes peered critically at me as I calmly returned his stare. The leathery skin at the corners of his lips twitched and curved upwards in approval.

"Aa, you'll grow up into a fine young man, Yuu-kun."

"Arigatou," I muttered humbly, though I could barely suppress the glow on my cheeks.

"Don't give him such high hopes, Hikaku-san," a woman with a harsh voice cut in. "Haven't you heard of all the talk about monsters destroying village after village? If they happen to stumble upon _our_ village, no one will live to see the lights of day again."

Again the monsters. I stole a glance in the direction of the speaker and recognized the sturdy, scowling woman as Nabiki-san, also infamously known as a gossiper. Jii-san was well aware of Nabiki-san's reputation, of course, and gave her a piercing glare at the table to his left.

"You should know better than to speak such nonsense in front of growing children," he said dangerously in a low, raspy voice.

"Hmph," Nabiki-san snorted, her rough hands clutched around a lavender-colored tea cup with pale flower patterns, "are you telling me you don't _believe_ in these monsters? The evidence is all around us! Look at any village in the vicinity and all you'll see is devastation. Not a single survivor."

"It's just the foreigners," jii-san countered stiffly. "They want to force us to modernize by terrorizing us."

"No human could have done what these monsters have done to the villages."

"Nabiki-san, have you ever seen one of these destroyed villages or these monsters?"

The woman's frown deepened at jii-san's serene statement. She hastily finished the rest of her tea in a single gulp and set it down on the table with a dull clunk.

"No," she growled with a glint in her dark eyes, "but no matter what, I believe in these monsters. They are a punishment from kami-sama for our humans' evil ways, and we will all be killed."

As the entire teahouse was listening at this time, a pronounced silence followed Nabiki's statement. Through the thin mist of bustling evening noises outside, I could clearly hear my mother's nervous rustles as she prepared tea in the kitchen.

"Nabiki-san is so negative," a bearded man laughed into the stillness. "I've heard rumors of these specially-trained people in black coats who kill these monsters. Something about kami-sama's chosen ones to protect humanity."

"Senseless hope," Kasumi-san said dismissively with a flick of her wrist. "Kami-sama wouldn't send monsters and saviors at the same time."

"It would be amusing, now, wouldn't it," the man continued, grinning. "I'd love to see one of the battles."

"Be serious, Hideo-san. They don't even exist."

"Just joking around, joking around…"

"Anyway, this whole incident is probably a hoax set up by the shogunate in the wake of all the political unrest."

"I told you, this can't be done by humans!"

I had had enough. Quickly, I bowed to jii-san and baa-san and hurried into the sanctuary of the kitchen. Conversations encircling around the rumors resumed in full volume behind me. Head ringing with the haunting words of Nabiki-san, I personally thought everything was spurious. Lies. False rumors. Monsters did not exist, and people with special powers did not exist as well. I resolved to think of nothing but tou-san's return within the next days.

"I'm back, kaa-san," I announced.

"Yuu."

I placed the empty tray on the table and glanced at my mother, expecting the long-overdue lecture. To my surprise, I noted the vague fear flickering in her eyes set upon a tense face. Her voice, I realized, had been—fearful? No, she didn't sound afraid. It was more…strained.

"No matter what," she whispered, staring down at the tea kettle between her hands, "no matter what, protect Yuumi. Protect your sister."

Her hands were trembling.

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**GLOSSARY**:

**jinbei** – traditional Japanese clothing worn by males during the summer

**mochi** – a Japanese dessert. The sticky rice cake is shaped like a ball and contains a sweet substance, like red beans, in the middle.

**dango** – a Japanese dessert that is similar to mochi. The dumpling is made from rice flour and contains a sweet substance. Three or so dango dumplings can be stuck to a skewer.

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**A/N**: Oh gosh. I don't want to count how many months it's been since I posted the prologue. Apparently I can't write multiple stories at once, but HERE I AM, so be happy campers and please give feedback! I can't promise to update more frequently, but at least you know I'm still kicking here.

Yes, I deliberately switched the point of view; it will remain in Kanda's first person perspective throughout the story. And yes, I was researching the history of Japan around the mid-1850s, since I barely know anything about it; unfortunately, the education system here doesn't teach much about Asian history.

Special thanks to SanityCrisis, Aeriel Cross Karush, AzureFlx, Miyazaki Sayuri, JapanCat, PerfectInsanity, Shadow Kitsu, HeavensLie90, The Mind Eye, Woodstock500, and blacksugarbomb for reviewing/acknowledging my fledgling story. May your writings be forever fruitful!

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_DGM_ (c) Hoshino Katsura


	3. Dreams

_Chapter 2_

**Dreams**

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**Quick A/N**: I have lowered Kanda's age in this storyline to seven years old; his sister Yuumi, then, is five years old.

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Darkness. Nothing but darkness all around me. Where…? A splash. Where am I? I looked up. A sneering crescent moon. I looked around. Broken lumps of buildings. This is…

_Yuu…_

I started and searched wildly for the voice calling for my name.

Who is it?

_Yuu…_

I looked down. That face—! That grin, that hateful sneer, peering out at me from the depths of the red pool—!

Go away—!

Yuu…

No—! Go away—!

_Yuu… It is coming…_

No—! Stay away from me—

"Nii-chan! Nii-chan! Wake up!"

Groaning, I rolled over on the tatami mat, ruffling the thin blanket, and opened one eye. Through my myopia of sleepiness and the morning sun that poured into my line of sight, I could barely discern the shape of a bouncing Yuumi.

_It was… a dream?_

"Nii-chan! Nii-chan! Nii-chan! Nii-chan!"

"What," I grumbled groggily.

"We just got a letter from tou-san. He should be back within the next few days!"

I peered blearily at my sister's ecstatic face, failing to catch onto her enthusiasm. Where in the world did she get all this energy from anyway?

"That's great," I replied grumpily, slumping my head back onto my firm pillow. "Now leave me alone."

"Aw, you're such a spoilsport," Yuumi scowled, pouting a little.

Despite her apparent unhappiness, I knew she would recover quickly and return to her bubbly self. As expected, she turned on her heels and headed towards the kitchen.

"And breakfast will be ready in ten minutes!" she called back.

"Mmph."

I rolled over on the mat and shut out all other noise but could not return to sleep anymore.

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In the dappled shade of the surrounding Japanese maple trees, the sunlight danced lightly upon my pale skin, just out of my eyes. My sandals tapped lightly against the ground as I walked briskly to my shishou's dojo. His martial arts residence was just on the edge of town, whereas our teahouse was situated near the center. Kaa-san had approved of my taking martial arts lessons from Fujiwara Tsuchi, who was also an old friend of tou-san's. Every other day, just after breakfast, I would head to my shishou's dojo and learn the sacred techniques of close combat and, more recently, swords fighting. Shishou would not let me touch the real katana yet, but even with my bamboo blade, he often commended me on my skills. Few swordsmen, he once said, had ever mastered this level of martial arts at such a young age, and it made me proud. Reaching the dojo now, I looked up briefly to admire the regal sign bearing the family name of Fujiwara and entered through the sliding door, leaving my sandals outside.

My master was sitting in the middle of the dojo with his eyes closed and legs folded underneath him. His tanned, wrinkled face, topped with silky white hair tied into the traditional topknot, was the epitome of serenity. He held in his hands on his lap a cup of steaming tea, and in front of his still form was a glossy black tray bearing a tea kettle. It almost appeared as though he was meditating, but I knew that he was merely listening to the sounds of nature ringing outside his dojo. He had certainly caught onto my presence before I had even stepped into his dojo.

"Ohayou gozaimasu, shishou," I greeted my master respectfully, sitting and bowing in front of him.

"Yuu-kun," he acknowledged me with the familiar deep, smooth voice that had never failed to calm me. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm feeling well, shishou. I had a good breakfast and a good walk here."

Shishou set down his cup on the tray and opened his eyes: clear brown ones, shimmering pools of river water under the sun, stared right into my own black ones.

"You know that's not what I meant, Yuu-kun."

I frowned slightly but maintained the calm composure I had been trained to uphold. Of course, I had known from the start that shishou was asking about my curse. A dark magic that manifested itself in the form of a tattoo, no bigger than a fully-blossomed sakura flower, on my left chest. A mysterious occurrence passed down from tou-san to me, the eldest child. I had never been told how and where tou-san had received the curse; his expression would darken whenever I had tried to ask him, and kaa-san looked away and tried to busy herself with the tea. Yuumi was completely unaware of the curse and the tattoo.

The memory of the first signs of the curse was still strongly embedded in my mind. I had been four years old, already a quiet boy. The morning had been misty, as though the heavens had covered our entire village in a thick veil of frost. I had been out helping tou-san fetch firewood from the shed when a sudden pain shot through my chest, and I stumbled to the ground, unconscious. The following days became a blur to me, sprinkled with bits of stinging pain and worried, hushed voices. But one thing distinctly stood out amidst that fog of darkened memories.

I remembered an eerie voice, resonating within the hollow walls of my subconsciousness. A voice filled with such sadistic mirth that I trembled, watching a cracked moon fall into countless shards upon the surface of a water soaked with blood, watching a curved smile and two circles as eyes grin almost lecherously at me through the crimson liquid. Thousands of memories, seemingly from the life of someone else, would race through my mind. Blurred as they were, I remembered… the _monsters_. The grotesque monsters, like giant oddly-shaped rocks, firing glowing bullets. There were screams and bloodshed and the faint outlines of a group of dark-skinned people, all bearing the same frightening grin. Who were they…? Why were there _monsters_ when they could not possibly exist…?

"Yuu-kun."

The firm tone of shishou's voice drew me back to reality. I forced myself to stare right into his steady gaze.

"It's the same, shishou," I replied dully. "The tattoo has not increased in size, and I have not had experienced any unusual pains since the tattoo appeared."

"Have you had any odd dreams lately?"

The images of the dream I just had the previous night flashed through my mind. I pushed them back. There was no need for anyone to worry about me, I had always despised it when people hovered over me, their faces so damn full anxiety and pity. I was seven already!

"No," I answered calmly.

Shishou glanced at me for a moment longer, as if trying to decipher my answer. I kept my face as impassive as possible, not daring to blink or twitch lest it give away my blatant lie. He lowered his gaze and picked up his cup of tea again.

"That will be all, Yuu-kun. We will take a break from training today."

"Hai, shishou."

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Life after receiving the curse had been ordinary. It was as though I had just fallen ill and then went to get a simple tattoo on my chest. I remembered Yuumi had inquired once about the tattoo when I had to take off my wet jinbei after slipping into a pond.

"Oh this…" I had said casually, "my friends and I decided to get this when an itinerant tattoo specialist passed through our village."

"Whaaa… you could've brought me along with you, nii-chan!"

"Ah, I'll remember next time," I had managed to smile forcibly.

But the dreams still came.

At first, I had the dreams once in a while. Initially, they frightened me so much that I dared not venture outside after dark. When the dreams came more frequently, roughly once a month, I learned to brave the images, convincing myself that bodiless faces would not start appearing in the dark. Now the dreams paid me weekly visits.

As I walked back to the village, I pondered the words of the grinning face.

_Yuu… It is coming…_

What did it all mean? Who was coming? I understood none of it. And despite my vow to brush off the rumors about the monsters, I could not help feeling uneasy.

Yet when I reached our teahouse and saw the beaming face of Yuumi, heard her cheerful voice calling out for me, I felt… marginally better. Her enthusiasm certainly was contagious. I let her clasp her hand around mine, feeling the warmth emitting from them, and let her lead the way back into the house. I smiled.

_I'll always be there for you, Yuumi._

* * *

**GLOSSARY**:

**shishou** – master

**Ohayou gozaimasu** – Good morning

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**A/N**: YES, THE STORY LIVES!!! I have also changed the story title; the original title was too generic for my taste. (If you read my Kanda drabble-fic "With Each Falling Petal," you'll notice that I have a weird fascination with the notion of memory…) I know I've been very sluggish in updating this story, but I'll try to write more quickly, given that I'm not too swamped in life.

Meanwhile, THANKS to Bruderlein, tokiya, asdg, Katria-Kage, skele-gro, azab, shamankinggirl086, pika318, sweet-emerald, whitelanc3r, pizzaslices, and Anrai for your support and presumed patience of shockingly high levels, if you're still around. Review, and I'll send over some virtual soba noodle bowls and see you next chapter!

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_DGM_ (c) Hoshino Katsura


	4. Samurai's Return

_Chapter 3_

**Samurai's Return**

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**

The first signs of their arrival were the puffs of dust obscuring nebulous shapes trudging across the distant landscape.

It had been two days since shishou had inquired about my condition. Yuumi, having scrambled to the highest tree on the highest hill in the village every day after receiving tou-san's letter, was the first to spot the samurai. Her excited shouts drew everyone's attention towards the marching line of armored soldiers and horses, but it was not until the village sentinels rang the bells that everyone rushed towards the village gates to welcome them.

I had not seen tou-san for two years now. Lord Watanabe, the feudal lord reigning over the region, had assigned tou-san's troops to conquer neighboring lands. The only recollection I had of that time, when I was but five years old, was the smell of sweat and something strangely pungent that resembled incense. There was a large, dark shape behind the screened door that was Lord Akamatsu; tou-san, as I recalled, was Lord Akamatsu's second-in-command. Now that the campaign had ended in victory, the samurai were returning to tou-san's village to deliver some of the sacks of rice they had won as victors and had collected as taxes.

As I sat patiently indoors (Yuumi was scrambling around outside the teahouse, as kaa-san had restricted her from joining the rowdy crowds near the gates), I found myself unable to picture tou-san's face. Did he have a beard? A mustache? How much (or little) did I resemble him, since both Yuumi and I took after much of our mother's appearance? What did his eyes look like? In spite of my calm façade, I too was anxious to see tou-san again after all this time of separation and to hear tales of his brave exploits. Some day, I whispered to myself in poorly-concealed excitement, I would be a samurai just like him, engaging in countless battles and embarking on countless adventures across the lands!

Yuumi's enthusiastic yells drew me back to reality, and before I had time to properly gather my thoughts, he stepped into the teahouse. My breath caught in my throat as I stared right into those black eyes (_my eyes!_), set upon a scarred, chiseled yet clean-shaven face. His long, scraggly black hair was tied up with a thin piece of rope, and the very image of my father looked so… _regal_. Despite his rough yet majestic appearance, his thin lips curved upwards. _He was smiling at me._

"You've grown, Yuu," he said. A statement mildly yet distinctly suffused with pride at seeing his son.

Was I supposed to respond?

"Tou-san…" I whispered almost inaudibly, unable to look away from those eyes (_my eyes!_).

"Nii-chan, nii-chan!" Yuumi suddenly sang, dancing out from behind tou-san. "Say it louder! Tou-san can't hear youuuu!"

Her words shook me and filled me with courage. Legs barely shaking now, I stood up straight, proud and calm, and look him right in the eye with determination.

"Welcome home, tou-san."

----------

We had a huge celebration that night. The newly-obtained sacks of rice filled all the storehouses the village had, and many families were overjoyed at seeing their husbands and fathers once again. Lord Akamatsu, who turned out to be a stout, jovial man, told many stories, both exciting and amusing, to eager crowds. Most of the villagers had never stepped foot outside the familiar grounds and so were yearning to hear tales of the outside world. Yuumi listened raptly until she could no longer hold up her head late into the night, and so I was forced to carry her sleeping form back to the teahouse before any of my friends returned. Ignoring their teasing, I trudged out from the restaurant where the festivities were taking place and headed along the familiar path back home.

When I slid open the door and stepped inside, a cold sensation suddenly came to me. Frozen, I remained standing there, hearing my own heart pounding loudly against my ribcage. Just then, I realized it was too quiet. Both of my parents had left early to return home, but I heard nothing now, as though they were not even here.

"Kaa-san? Tou-san?"

No response.

Calming my slightly shaking frame, I took another step inside. Then a scream. I nearly dropped Yuumi in shock and fear but slid her safely onto a nearby mat just in time. What was that—? What was happening—?

_Yuu… It is coming…_

"No," I whispered, "it can't be…"

Body suddenly unfrozen in realization of something terrible that had just occurred, I rushed through the house, winding through seemingly endless hallways, letting my feet take me to where they somehow knew they were supposed to go, heart beating wildly now in fear of finding out who had screamed, hand now reaching out to a door that I somehow knew was containing the terrible event that had happened. My heart screamed to stop, stop stop—! but my hand would not listen, and its finger tightened around the door frame and pulled it open with a snap.

Then a silence.

And a chuckle. My eyes lifted to the sight of a fat, bespectacled man wearing a tall hat that was decorated with flowers. His eyes flickered to where I stood, frozen again, before—_were my eyes deceiving me??_—he disappeared.

Then a shuffling sound. Beads of perspiration now slipping down my pale face, I forced my vision down, down, down… and there was—

"Kaa-san?"

From her crouched position, she moved at the sound of my voice and turned her head slowly my way. Her long hair was covering most of her face.

"Where's tou-san?" I managed to ask without trembling too much. "What happened? Who was that fat man?"

"My son…" she murmured, lifting a hand towards me as though she had not heard a word I said.

Taking it as a sign that she wanted me to come closer, I stepped into the room and took her hand. I started. _Her hand was so cold_, when they were usually so full of warmth. Was she ill?

"Kaa-san, are you feeling alright?"

"Of course," she croaked, her lips breaking into a sneer and hand tightening around my own, "what makes you think I'm not?!"

I yelped, falling backwards as the sight of her insane-looking face. Where was the kind, gentle mother I knew?

"You're not kaa-san," I stammered. "Who are you?"

"I'm your mother, boy," the woman grinned. "Who else would I be?"

As she began to shake, her back distorted. Pieces of metal broke through the skin and shifted themselves with horrible creaking sounds until all that remained of the woman was a gray, blankly-staring face. Adorned with star on its forehead, it was set in the middle of a large, round… _monster_ (_but it can't be…?_) levitating above me. I stared.

_Run, Yuu…_

The monster aimed its many arms at me and made a clicking sound.

_Run!_

I obeyed. Moving with the prowess I had gained under the instruction of shishou, I dodged the glowing bullets, running down the hallway and towards the main door of the teahouse where I had placed Yuumi. I questioned nothing, stopped for nothing, and kept running. Just run, run, run, never look back at that grotesque _monster_, never look back, never look back—!

Wood splinters flickered at the edge of my vision. Yelling, I threw myself to the ground just before the _monster_ slammed through the wall to my right.

"It's catching up," I muttered frantically.

I had to hurry, had to get Yuumi out of here, had to warn all the villagers that a monster was in this very village, that the rumors were true, after all! Bringing myself to my feet in a hurry, I headed along my original path, still dodging the bullets and still _never looking back_. Finally, finally, there she was!

"Nii-chan?"

Yuumi was awake, sitting at the very spot I had left her at and staring at me (or the _monster_ behind me, but I wouldn't know because I would _never look back_).

"We're going, Yuumi," I said, surprisingly calm as I wrapped my arms around her and slid her onto my back.

Then I ran. But I was too late.

Then came the fire blasts. I heard the screams, smelled the burnt flesh, saw a sky shattered with flashes of red. _Like what I saw in the memories. _All this destruction, this unreal fear of a _monster_ shooting down every person in sight. _This was a massacre._ All this sorrow and pain, watching them helplessly fall one by one when they had been so happy just a minute. _This was a tragedy._ Why did it happen?

Then the ground began to rumble. I sought the nearest shelter, one of the storehouses, and cushioned myself and Yuumi between towers of rice sacks. The sounds were muffled in the structure, but I could still see the terrifying images replaying themselves in my mind. Shutting them off as best I could, I stole a glance at my sister. Yuumi was bunched up against a sack, as though she was trying to hide herself from the world. Tears streamed down her face, and I saw that her hands were shaking badly despite her quiet façade. Her eyes were dark and brooding—very much unlike the sparkling ones I saw every day. What was going to happen to us…?

Then came the explosion. A surge of bright crimson and a startling spark of pain amidst a single roaring moment. I moved instinctively towards Yuumi, trying to shield her from the blast. She trembled.

Then a flash of bluish light. Then all I saw was black.

----------

I couldn't discern what exactly woke me up. Perhaps it was the footsteps, a definite human sound that immensely relieved me, that there were still humans outside the village and that there would be help. Or perhaps it was that strange sensation: a cooling touch that nonetheless seemed to warm and touch the very heart of my soul. As though it was a friend I had not met in an eternity. Greeting me. Saying hello.

None of the burning heat from the massacre remained. Lying on my front, I was surprised to feel cold: a rolling, slightly damp sensation on my bare arms and back. Mist? And what was this pain? My vision stumbled towards my arm. Blood. Staining my entire arm and the rice that had spilled out of open sacks nearby. Red against white. Red against flesh. The stench filled my senses and nearly made me gag. Yuumi was under me, protected from all the horrors of now. But I was unable to move. Frozen in pain, in disgust, in fear of seeing the state of the world now.

Staunchly denying this barrier, I managed to lift my eyes towards the sky: the same familiar gray sky now partially blocked by two faces. One belonged to that of an old man with a kind, wrinkled face (his resemblance to shishou annoyed me). The other was that of a teenage boy with brown hair, covered by a hood (his curious eyes also annoyed me). Both seemed to be wearing strange black-and-white attire. _But they could help._ Somehow, somewhere, I latched onto the remaining wisps of my strength and lifted myself, cradling Yuumi in one arm.

"Please…" I barely managed to whisper, hoping that they could understand the desperation imbued in every one of my words, "please help… her…"

And I fell into consciousness again.

* * *

**A/N**: And we reach where we left off in the prologue! Now begins Kanda's journey as an Exorcist. As usual, honorable mention to pizzaslices, Everystep, pika318, abilityPOINT, Anrai, and whitelanc3r for reading, reviewing, and/or subscribing!

* * *

_DGM_ belongs to Hoshino Katsura — Get well soon!


	5. The Exorcists

_Chapter 4_

**The Exorcists**

**

* * *

**_**Previously:**_

"_Please…" I barely managed to whisper, hoping that they could understand the desperation imbued in every one of my words, "please help… her…"_

_And I fell into consciousness again._

* * *

Somewhere far away, voices murmured across a vast, empty void. Through a thick fog, I numbly struggled in vain to resurface to consciousness. A dull pain in my chest throbbed irregularly alongside the rhythmic pulsing of my heart.

I felt nauseous. It was an utterly disgusting sensation exacerbated by the extra beating, yet I knew—somehow—it was that very throbbing that provided the foundation of my life force. I could feel cool tendrils drifting from the pulsing, strangling and healing the cells of my body.

Was I even alive?

The strange pulsing began to synchronize with the beating of my heart, and a layer of the fog peeled away, dissipating into the chilling air. The voices were becoming more distinct, and I could begin to make out some words. I stirred.

"Shishou, shishou! He's waking up!"

Who was that?

Who was his master?

Questions hammered in my head. Forcing my mind to beat through the lingering fog, I reached for the surface, telling myself to open my eyes, wake up, see for myself what is happening, go, go, go—Light! It came slowly; my eyelids felt heavy. But there they were: the old man and the boy, the same faces I last saw before losing consciousness.

"What's your name?" the boy asked, his face positively beaming in radiance.

Why was he so damn happy? I felt a sudden aversion towards his cheerfulness.

"Kanda Yuu," I muttered.

"Well, Yuu-kun," said the older man with a crinkled smile, "it seems your mind is still in working order! I am Froi Tiedoll, and this here—" (he gestured towards the cheerful boy, who grinned and waved) "—is Daisya Barry."

I remained silent. Why were they smiling?

"You must be hungry, Yuu-kun!" the man called Tiedoll continued, apparently completely oblivious to my coldness. "I'll have Daisya whip up something for you to eat."

"Whaaaatt???" the boy, named Daisya or something, yelped. "Why me, shishou?"

"Because I have some things to discuss with Yuu-kun," Tiedoll replied serenely. "Now go on. Please make me something warm too, Daisya! Playing the role of doctor is quite tiresome, you know."

I started at his words.

"Fine," Daisya muttered, trudging away. "Just don't complain about my cooking."

"The role of doctor?" I repeated anxiously, breaking my sullen silence. "Where's Yuumi? Where's kaa-san, tou-san? What happened back there? That monster… do you know something—"

"Whoa, whoa," Tiedoll broke in, raising both of his hands as though to stop my flow of questions, "one at a time, Yuu-kun!"

I stopped. Pressing my lips together, I gritted my teeth in exasperation.

"Where's Yuumi," I decided to ask.

"Ah, she's just right over there."

I followed the direction in which he gestured, and sure enough, lying and sleeping on a nearby tatami mat, was my sister. Her forehead, neck, and arms, as far as I could see, were heavily bandaged. From my position, I could see that she was breathing evenly. I let out a breath I was not aware of holding and then flinched at a pain that shot across my chest.

"You should calm down, Yuu-kun," Tiedoll said. "Your sister suffered from burns and flesh wounds due to the explosion and was even badly dehydrated when we found both of you, being the only two survivors. Though your condition is slightly better, you had better be a good boy and rest."

Reluctantly obeying him, I laid myself back down and glared at the man but not before noticing my bandaged arms and chest. I noticed my heart was still pounding declaratively.

"Where are we?" I finally inquired.

"I'm glad you asked!" Tiedoll answered happily, turning towards the direction of the door. "Fujiwara-san!"

_Fujiwara?_ I thought in shock.

Even as I digested the name, my shishou himself stepped into the room. Seeing his face relaxed my body, as I realized we were now in the residence of my master. He ambled over, and judging by the fragrance of rice on his blue-gray kimono and the faint curses and clanging caused by Daisya from the room he had just exited, the kitchen was in that direction.

"Shishou," I murmured, inclining my head as a form of a hasty bow.

"Fujiwara-san was kind enough to lend us space to heal you and your sister, Yuu-kun," Tiedoll explained. "As it turned out, his house was far enough from the main village to avoid complete annihilation. Luckily, you're also his student, which lessens the guilt in my heart of intruding on someone's space."

"Not at all, General Tiedoll," shishou responded. "It's my duty as a supporter of the Black Order to help out the Exorcists and those injured by Akuma."

_General? Black Order? Exorcists? Akuma?_ I thought wildly, not for the first time within minutes.

"What—" I began feebly.

"Ah, we should probably start from the beginning," Tiedoll said, noticing my confusion. "Fujiwara-san, will you do the honors? He seems to respond better to you than to me."

"Very well," shishou said.

He sat down near me and peered directly into my eyes once again. Then he began to speak.

----------

When he had finished telling me about the Exorcists' Holy War against the Millennium Earl, against the Akuma, against the Noah, and about the supernatural tool called Innocence whose power the Exorcists harnessed in order to battle, and about the Black Order that was established to counter the Earl's plans by destroying the Akuma and collecting pieces of Innocence scattered around the world, my head was spinning with these revelations.

"And you're a compatible user of one fragment of this Innocence," shishou concluded.

"But…" I protested in a last attempt to deny it all, "this can't be real…"

"Yuu-kun," he said patiently, "you've seen the Akuma, right? That monster that attacked and destroyed our village?"

"The Akuma…" I repeated quietly, "but… it came out of kaa-san's body…"

"That's because the Earl feeds upon the sorrow evoked by human tragedies. He convinces the grieving to call their loved ones back from the dead. The dead, once revived, becomes an Akuma under the control of the Earl and consumes the caller, taking on his or her appearance. Meanwhile, it kills other humans in order to evolve itself and also continue the cycle of tragedy."

"Wait…" I gasped in realization, "that means…"

"Yes, Yuu-kun… That night, your father had died, and your mother tried to call him back from the dead. The Akuma took on your mother's appearance and commenced destruction."

"Why…" I began but stopped, dreading but already suspecting the answer to my question, "why did tou-san die?"

Shishou gave me a long gaze with eyes filled with an unreadable expression. But it looked like… pity? For the first time, I felt a sudden revulsion towards the old man. I hated it. My hands tightened around my blanket. _I really hated it._

"He died from the curse, Yuu-kun," he answered. "His time was up."

----------

_Yuu_…

I open my eyes and see naught but a crescent moon tottering above me. A warm liquid ripples beneath my bare feet. Curiously, I look down and squint through the faded moonlight. A glistening crimson liquid: blood. The light suddenly expands its narrow beam, and I catch sight of mangled bodies disappearing into dust, dust plastered with so much blood, blood so speckled with so much fragments of crumbled buildings amidst the flashes of angry explosions and glowing bullets that I bend over and fall to my knees, gasping and retching. Red against flesh. Red against hands. _My hands._ Startled by this sight, I stagger back up and take a few wobbling steps back before losing balance and falling into that wretched liquid again.

_Yuu_…

'Who…' I manage to whisper, despite recognizing that voice.

_It's me, Yuu, always me_…

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to look down and am surprised to see that the blood has turned into ordinary water. The same grinning, almost lecherous, face peers right at me again. My temper gets the better of me.

'Who are you?' I shout. 'Why do you always appear in my dreams?'

_That's for you to discover_, the face replies. _I'm only here to remind you of your curse._

'The curse…' I mutter, recalling that I start having these dreams after I obtain the tattoo.

_I'm only here to remind you, Yuu… to tell you…_

'Tell me what?' I snap. 'Why can't you be direct for once?'

_That's for you to discover…_

'Shut up!' I snarl, reaching down to where the face hovers in the water.

My hand touches upon nothing but the cold liquid. I kneel down and continue to slash at the water.

'Where are you?!'

_That's for you to discover… Farewell, Yuu…_

'Come back, you bastard! Answer me!'

Then my hand closes upon a solid object. Tasting the fruits of victory, I pull it up—

And find myself holding up the hand of Yuumi, whose lifeless body hangs down, appearing strangely thin and dry, her face blank and eyes closed upon an extremely pale face, her skin sticking limply to her bones whose shapes I could even discern through her wispy flesh, taking on a frightening pallid color, as though she is d—

Fear fills me. I scream.

And wake up.

Just a dream, I reminded myself, panting and gripping my arms tightly. Just a dream. My eyes darted to the corner where Yuumi was sleeping. She was safe. Just a dream.

Just a dream.

----------

The next day, I was surprised to find that I had completely healed. There were no traces of my injuries at all: no scars, no scabs, no blemishes. As though I had never been wounded. As though the entire event _that night_ had been but a dream.

Just as the man named Tiedoll had stated, Yuumi's condition was worse off than mine was. She needed constant care each day and even required someone to spoon feed her, as her strength had not returned yet. Trying to avoid making eye contact, let alone even being near her, I always spawned an excuse to not take care of her: I had to help Daisya make dinner (his cooking was horrible, at any rate); shishou wanted me to work on my defensive stances; the floor of the dojo needed cleaning; or another reason of sorts.

The reaction, I supposed, was nearly instinctive. Her presence itself was enough to stab a thorn of immense regret into my heart. Refusing to face her and the fact that I had failed to do _anything_, I forced myself to turn away and never look at the frail body that sat in bed, bandaged in cloth covered with pungent medicinal herbs with an expressionless face and dark, brooding eyes that represented the terrors and remorse of _that night_.

I hated it. I hated those monsters, those Akuma. I hated the sight of my own sister. I hated kaa-san, who was foolish enough to believe that she could actually call tou-san back. I hated tou-san for returning and falling _dead_ of that damn curse. I hated the wave of destruction and grief that followed. I wanted to do _something_!

"Tiedoll."

"Hmm?"

I was standing next to the sitting man, who had propped a canvas up on his knees and was running a piece of charcoal across the white surface. He seemed to really enjoy art, as I could spot him sitting outside shishou's dwelling each day, staring at the distant scenery and drawing. From my angle, I could see his hands etch out the distant mountains, shrouded in wisps of the evening's silver fog.

"I want to become an Exorcist," I stated firmly, pulling my eyes away from his shifting hands.

"Oh, so you've made your decision, Yuu-kun?"

I flinched slightly at hearing my name: not the first time it had happened since _that night_. My given name just sounded too Japanese, reminding me so much of the cheerful faces of my friends who were teasing me for having to leave early with a dozing Yuumi, reminding me of all the villagers who knew and respected me for being the son of a samurai and a promising master of martial arts. Reminding too much of all those people who had died needlessly when all I did was hide in cowardice.

"I have," was my calm response, not betraying my inner turmoil. "And I would like to know about my curse. Shishou should have told you, am I right?"

Tiedoll stopped drawing out the smooth curves of the hills and looked at me. His eyes, I noted with annoyance, were unreadable: just as shishou's were the other day.

"Very well," Tiedoll replied. "You are quite right, Yuu-kun. Then I suppose I should tell you what Fujiwara-san told me."

Reaching into his bag on the ground, he pulled out a large hourglass containing a glistening pink lotus.

* * *

**A/N**: I love Daisya and Tiedoll XD. Thanks very much to Everystep, suzaku-haruka, -chan, and pika318! And, ah… I'll most likely go on a temporary hiatus after this chapter due to finals and the holidays. So a premature **MERRY CHRISTMAS **and** HAPPY NEW YEAR** to everyone! I'll see you NEXT YEAR XD.

* * *

_DGM_ (c) Hoshino Katsura


	6. A Curse that Blossoms

_Chapter 5_

**A Curse that Blossoms**

**

* * *

**_**Previously:**_

"_Very well," Tiedoll replied. "Then I suppose I should tell you what Fujiwara-san told me about your curse."_

_Reaching into his bag on the ground, he pulled out a large hourglass containing a glistening pink lotus with thirteen petals. _

* * *

It was a glass structure with round pieces of wood as its top and base. Three handles, imprinted with intricate designs, held up the two connected segments of glass and the two bases. I gaped, in a sort of mesmerized rapture, at the pink lotus. Sitting at the bottom of the top cylindrical glass segment, the flower had barely bloomed, but I could make out the thirteen distinct petals still tightly bunched in a single pink lump.

"This lotus," Tiedoll spoke, "represents your curse. Your father also had one, according to Fujiwara-san, that he carried around with him. He and Fujiwara-san were apparently quite close."

"Yes, they were…" I muttered. "But what does this flower have to do with anything?"

"To put it simply," Tiedoll said slowly, still maintaining his strong eye contact, "once this lotus blooms and withers, losing all thirteen petals… you will die."

The last word jolted me.

"Die?" I gasped. "Just like tou-san…?"

"Yes. His last petal had withered the day he returned. I daresay that was the reason why he wanted to return: in order to see his family one last time."

I remembered his words… _You've grown, Yuu_… words filled with pride and happiness… and, perhaps… a touch of wistfulness in those eyes of his?

"But…" I whispered, "he was not even thirty years old…"

"His lotus died," Tiedoll restated simply with a tint of sadness, "and he went along with it. That is how your curse works."

The tension that the initial shock had given me began to wear off. I felt my legs buckling, and I toppled to the ground, wondering, wondering, _screaming_ the question why we were cursed. Who? Who was it?

"Who was the one who cursed tou-san?" I growled out loud.

Tiedoll looked down at me with his hands back in their drawing positions.

"I don't know. Even Fujiwara-san doesn't," he answered frankly. "But if you somehow manage to find this person… perhaps you can be saved from the curse."

I perked up and stared at the man.

"Really?"

"Just a hypothesis, Yuu-kun," Tiedoll responded, returning to his unfinished artwork. "I can't be too sure of these curses. Though there _is_ one bright spot to your curse!"

I frowned at his sudden change in mood; how _could_ he be so happy when he had to see death and destruction nearly every day? Tiedoll pointed to the left side of my chest.

"That tattoo," he explained, "is part of the curse and represents your life force. As long as you have the lotus and the tattoo, your life reserve will heal you faster than an average human would. Now isn't that handy?"

_Perhaps it _would_ come in handy_, I mused, remaining silent as I conjured up the possibilities of being able to survive longer in battles.

"Oh, Yuumi-chan!" Tiedoll called out in the absence of a response. "So good of you to join us."

I started and whirled behind me to see my sister standing not too far away from us, dressed in a light green kimono that harshly brought out the thin, pallid appearance of her face. _With those hateful, dark eyes._ I felt sick again.

"Nii-chan. Tiedoll-san," she greeted us quietly.

"I'm so glad to see that you're up and around," Tiedoll said conversationally. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," she answered, smiling weakly, "thanks to you and Fujiwara-san's care. Oh, and Daisya-kun's cooking, of course."

"Ah, Daisya…" Tiedoll chuckled. "His cooking sure has gotten better since he arrived here."

I snorted in derision; only idiots would think that Daisya's cooking was even edible. Looking around for something to busy myself with, my eyes caught sight of a strange sight on Yuumi's forehead.

"Yuumi," I said, staring beneath her bangs, "what's that on your forehead?"

"Huh? This?"

She raised a hand and lifted the curls of her hair to reveal mysterious black lettering: not unlike the tattoo I had on my chest. My heart thumped.

"I don't know," she said quizzically. "Fujiwara-san said that it had something to do with the unknown occurrence that had driven those Akuma away."

"Ah, is that so…"

I quickly exchanged a glance with Tiedoll and knew from his expression that Yuumi, although having been informed of the Black Order and the Holy War, still did not know anything of the curse. Tiedoll, I noted, had apparently surreptitiously slipped the hourglass back into his bag before Yuumi could notice it.

"That aside, nii-chan," she continued sternly, "why have you been avoiding me all this time?"

"Avoiding you?" I muttered, carefully avoiding her gaze. "No, I haven't…"

"Don't deny it. You know you've been doing that since we were brought into Fujiwara-san's house. You avoid taking care of me, you avoid being near me, you avoid making eye contact… Nii-chan! Look at me!"

She grabbed me by the shoulders and glared at me with glistening eyes.

"Where's the brother I knew?" Yuumi whispered sadly.

Her grip loosened, and I shook her off. Avoiding her touch.

"Maybe he never existed to begin with," I said coldly.

Yet as I walked away, seeking solace in an isolated place somewhere, I could feel her sad gaze piercing into my back before the previous effort took its toll. I heard her collapse and then Tiedoll's quiet words of consolation before he brought her back to shishou's house for further rest.

_Stop depending on me so much, Yuumi…_ I cried silently. _I can't protect anyone…_

Clenching my hands until the nails dugs narrow trenches into my palm, gritting my teeth until my jaws became sore and only the old maple tree in front of me could see and sense my grief, I could not help letting a single tear slide down my face.

I hated it… this powerlessness.

----------

"What are you reading, Yuu?"

I slammed the book shut and glared at the grinning face of Daisya peeping out from behind the bookshelves. My wish of finding a quiet place in the small library of shishou's house had apparently been broken.

"None of your business," I growled in annoyance.

"Aww, don't be so cold, Yuu," he chided, trying to grab the book from my hands.

"Go away and don't bother me!"

Still holding the book, I attempted to hit the Turkish boy with a swing of my arm. To my surprise, he dodged it deftly and grinned at me.

"It'll take more than that than to swat Daisya Barry, star football player and accommodator of the Charity Bell!"

"What nonsense are you spouting, idiot…"

"It's not nonsense; it's the truth!" Daisya laughed. "And come up to the dining room. Dinner's ready!"

"Did you cook dinner again?" I grumbled.

"Nope; Fujiwara-san did! It smells reeeeeeally good, Yuu."

"I'll come later."

"Fine," he called back, already on his way to the food. "Just don't forget to come. We don't want you to starve before you even activate your Innocence."

"Hn."

Even in this remote corner of shishou's house, I could pick up the fragrance of miso soup and warm rice and immediately knew deep within that I would not be going for dinner today. _It reminded me too much of kaa-san's cooking_.

I trudged to my original spot and sat back down. Opening the book in my lap, I continued staring at the Japanese characters and the accompanying drawings of the lotus. Unfortunately, my education in reading and writing had been severely limited, since the children of the village were not expected to be literate. This proved to be a great barrier now, as my exploration of the properties of the lotus (and perhaps clues to the lotus of my curse) were limited by my inability to understand the words written in the book. Scowling, I shut the text once again and went perusing the shelves.

_Perhaps I could teach myself how to read_, I mused, scanning the shelves for a thin book.

Finally lighting upon several small books, I pulled them out and spent the rest of the night learning, reading, memorizing, and muttering to myself.

----------

Endless questions were abound in my head: Who had saved Yuumi and me that night? Who had cursed tou-san? How exactly did the curse operate? Would seeking out the person who cursed us help alleviate the curse at all? What would the Black Order and the other Exorcists turn out to be like?

Could I get stronger?

Even as in my earlier childhood days, I had been one to wonder. What was life like outside of this village? was a question I often posed to the occasional traveler passing through the village and resting at our teahouse. They would always glance at me with a puzzled expression and reply that it was difficult to really explain it, it was something I had to see with my own eyes, it was really something to see, you should go out and see for yourself, young man!

And now… could I finally have a chance to get my questions answered?

----------

The day Tiedoll chose to leave shishou's house was an unusually sunny one. I suspected that he had consulted an almanac of sorts in order to hand-pick a bright day and attempt to liven up the cloudy mood that had taken over the house. General Tiedoll, as I had learned over time, was just that kind of man: mysteriously playful with a tendency to ramble on about nonsensical topics and to suddenly drop everything for the sake of producing a piece of artwork yet thoughtfully serious at the same time.

How annoying.

"Are you ready, Yuu-kun?"

I looked up from where I was placing some books (a few about the lotus and others about reading the Japanese language) into my bag. Tiedoll was standing at the doorway, dressed in the strange gold-and-black attire he had been wearing the first time I saw him.

"Almost."

"Hurry it up, slowpoke," he said cheerfully, waving to me as he walked away again. "Try not to get into the habit of tardiness!"

"Che, who's being tardy," I growled under my breath.

Sulking, I finally managed to shut my bag before the glint of glass caught my eye. I stood rooted to the spot, one hand clutching the bag of books and the other hanging loose. The hourglass sat innocently a short distance away, containing the barely-blossomed lotus that gleamed a soft pink hue. To a bystander, it might have been beautiful, with its silky petals and perfect pastel shades, but I found it disgusting to even look at. I had been greatly dismayed the day Tiedoll handed me the hourglass and told me that it was my responsibility to take care of it, though I soon realized that the flower required no nourishment: no soil, no water, not even sunlight. It grew on its own: just a representation of my life force or perhaps just simply a plant that fed upon my soul.

"_The unfolding petals of the lotus suggest the expansion and growth of the soul."_

That much, at least, I understood from the books. Which seemed quite obvious in any case. Sighing, I reluctantly headed over and picked up the hourglass that was surprisingly light in spite of its appearance. I stuffed it into my bag of books and stomped out of the room, _never looking back_ at the space where I had found out about Akuma, about Innocence, about my compatibility, about how much my life as Kanda Yuu, a boy of seven years living in a humble village of Japan, would change from this point on into Kanda Yuu, a boy of seven years heading out on an eternal mission destroying Akuma and fighting in the Holy War.

_**To be continued**_

* * *

**A/N**: I'm finally back and off hiatus! :D And by "football," I meant the non-American kind, called "soccer" in the States.

**Special thanks to**: beautiful000enigma, Vynnye, Isdris, Belladonna-Isabella, pika318, Everystep, Itaichixion, chibi hazel-chan, wolfpup026, and whitelanc3r. Please continue to read and review!

**Disclaimer**: _DGM_ belongs to Hoshino Katsura. Paraphrased sentence on the lotus comes from Wikipedia.


	7. Setting Off

_Chapter 6_

**Setting Off**

**

* * *

**_**Previously:**_

_I stuffed the hourglass, which was also quite sturdy in spite of its weight, into my bag of books and stomped out of the room, never looking back at the space where I had found out about Akuma, about Innocence, about my compatibility, about how much my life as Kanda Yuu, a boy of seven years living in a humble village of Japan, would change from this point on into Kanda Yuu, a boy of seven years heading out on an eternal mission destroying Akuma and fighting in the Holy War._

* * *

"You're so slooooow, Yuu," Daisya complained.

"Shut up," I snapped in response as I ran up to the named boy and Tiedoll. Both were standing next to shishou and Yuumi right outside the door.

"Well, this is farewell, Yuu-kun," shishou said sadly.

"I guess."

"Tiedoll-san," shishou said to the general, extending a hand, "take care of Yuu-kun. He's a quick learner."

"Of course, Fujiwara-san," Tiedoll replied, exchanging a handshake. "The Black Order takes very good care of the Exorcists."

Though I was eyeing their gesture in disgruntled curiosity, having never seen a handshake before, I could have almost sworn I heard Daisya hastily masking a cough at Tiedoll's statement.

Catching Tiedoll's eye, I knew he was prodding me to bid farewell to shishou and Yuumi, who had been silently and inconspicuously standing in shishou's shadow. From the conversation between Tiedoll and shishou I heard last night, I knew that shishou would be taking Yuumi to another village so that she could have a normal life. Much to my inner relief, he would be accompanying her and pretending to be her grandfather in order to act as her guardian.

"Thank you for your care, shishou," I said quietly, bowing to him for the last time. "And thank you for the books."

"Ah, no need, no need," he smiled. "They have been there for so long I forgot I even had them. And please take this."

He handed to me a long object wrapped in violet-colored cloth. Even in its wrapped state, I could tell it was a katana.

"This—" I gasped.

"I was planning on giving this to you once you had been under my instruction for a few years and had mastered the way of the sword," shishou explained, "but since you're leaving now and need a way to fight, I thought it would come in handy."

"Thank you…" I murmured, accepting and gripping the katana tightly as I bowed in genuine gratitude.

Then my eyes slid over to Yuumi. She would be safe with shishou, I assured myself. Better him than me, in any case.

"Sayonara, Yuumi," I murmured, placing a hand on her head.

"Yeah," she said softly, "sayonara, nii-chan."

She looked up at me with those sad eyes of hers. I tried not to look away; this would be the last time I ever saw of her.

"I won't… ever see you again… will I?" Yuumi smiled sadly.

"Probably not."

"Take care, then… nii-chan."

She grinned suddenly, a shadow of her former self, and rushed forward to embrace me.

"You'll always be the best brother in the world!"

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt the edges of my eyes begin to sting with the impending stream of tears. Closing my eyes, I patted her again, feeling strangely awkward.

"Thanks."

"Don't worry, Yuumi-chan!" Daisya shouted. "I'll make sure Yuu is safe and sound!"

"I don't need your protection, idiot," I growled.

"Just don't overdo it," Yuumi said simply, letting go of me.

"Fine."

"Time to go, you two," Tiedoll called out. "We have a long way to go!"

"Where to, shishou?" Daisya inquired.

"The Asia headquarters, of course! Yuu-kun here needs a place to train to become a proper Exorcist."

As Tiedoll and Daisya walked off and chattered (or rather, Daisya chattered and Tiedoll hummed placidly to himself), I paused and gazed back at the solitary figures of shishou (no, Tiedoll was my master now, wasn't he? though I didn't like the thought of calling him _shishou_… perhaps _gensei_, or general, would do) and my sister. They looked so lonely, so fragile: just two people standing a distance away in an obliterated landscape. That was why civilians needed protection from the Akuma with the aid of the Exorcists. That was why I needed to leave Yuumi behind, in order to shed the weak skin I had been wearing and seek a stronger one and protect her from afar.

I looked up at the sky. It sure was a sunny day of such aching blues, with clouds of such glowing whites, of such pristine beauty: the first in such a long time. A rare sunny jewel amongst years of endless fog and overcast skies.

A day to start a new life.

"Hurry up, Yuuuuuuu!" Daisya said. "We'll leave you behind."

"Che."

It took me a few seconds to catch up, but it was enough to finally make the transition that I had been itching to make since a few weeks back.

"Gensei," I said, slightly hesitantly once I reached them. "Daisya."

They looked at me. I stared back with hardened eyes.

"Call me Kanda."

----------

_Yuu_. It was such a Japanese-sounding name. Short, simple, and curt. Too hurtful, too swollen with painful memories. I tried to pronounce it once, masked in the rattling of the wagon wheels upon uneven ground after we left my former shishou, and nearly retched at how distastefully it fell upon my lips. Yuumi had once laughed at my given name, saying that she, with two syllables in her name, beat mine and sounded cuter. Boys don't need cute names, I had retorted. That may be so, she had replied, but I think it sounds cute anyway! Such strange logic; I had never really understood what went on in that head of hers.

_Kanda_. There. It sounded much better: less Japanese-sounding and even a little Western-styled. A perfect label and mask for my new life as an Exorcist. Never had anyone called me by my family name, and I thought it now sounded rather crisp, chiseled smoothly with a sort of graceful arrogance. English, which was the main language that the Black Order spoke, would have granted my given name a strange feel anyway: _Yuu_ was pronounced like _you_. _Kanda_ would certainly be more comfortable for both myself and the other Exorcists. Yes, I nodded firmly, I would become known as Kanda from now on, forever leaving behind the shed skin of the weak boy known as Yuu.

----------

Two days later, as I removed the dark blue kimono that I had worn upon leaving my former shishou's dwelling, I glanced at the Western-style clothes that Daisya had reluctantly lent to me. Although the Turkish teenager was older, I soon discovered that his white shirt and black pants fit me relatively well as long as I tied a belt around my waist and rolled up the sleeves. Peering in the cracked mirror, I stared smugly at my reflection—a short, scrawny boy of seven years, looking pale and serious against the loose articles of clothing but actually appearing European in spite of my fine eyebrows, dark eyes, and Japanese jaw line.

Never mind that. I brushed away the thought and stepped outside.

----------

"Well, we finally made it. Behold the _Chrysanthemum_!" Tiedoll smiled, raising his two arms at the giant wooden creature looming in front of us, swaying menacingly upon the waves at the harbor. Long slender arms extended horizontally and vertically from the large, bottom base. I had never seen anything like it.

Daisya cheered at Tiedoll's statement. I continued staring at the creature.

The harbor was nearly devoid of people here, very much similar to the state of the lands that we had crossed to reach the shores in the past weeks. Occasionally, we would pass through humble villages, but many cowered at the sight of Tiedoll and Daisya's strange attires and immediately retreated into their dwellings. The others that remained outside stared rudely and suspiciously. Everyday life in those villages was so stagnant; if it were not for the residents, I would have thought we were passing through ghost towns: mere shadows of the burnt, destroyed villages we had often seen during our travel. It seemed many Japanese, such as those in our family's teahouse very long ago, believed the rumors of the Akuma, though they often took the forms of inexplicable demons or of the white foreigners themselves.

Now we stood under the faint sun, obscured as usual by stone gray clouds, on the quiet harbor. Some seagulls cawed in light of our arrival, soaring low above us as they eyed the ground around us for new food to scavenge. An unfamiliar scent, strangely pungent yet carrying the merest hint of acridity, reached my nose (I later learned this was the smell of the salt water). As I extended my gaze, more of the monstrous wooden structures floated and groaned upon the waters. Some of them were allowing admittance to smartly-dressed white men, their eyes and hairs strangely pale compared to those of the Japanese I had always seen. The particular wooden creation, which Tiedoll had called _Chrysanthemum_, we were standing in front of was smaller in build with wood dark from age and relentless sea water. I could just make out a grotesque head was carved at the structure's head, which was pointing outward towards the horizon like another arm.

"What… is that?" I managed to question, still taking in the gargantuan size of the wooden creations.

"What! You've never seen a ship before, Yuu?" Daisya gaped.

He instantly withered under the glare I shot at him, reminding him of his lethal mistake.

"Ah, I mean, Kanda…" he rectified himself meekly.

"No," I said shortly, deciding not to state the obvious that I had grown up these seven years of my life in a remote village far away from the shorelines. "What of it?"

"We'll be riding in this ship to cross the ocean in order to reach China," Tiedoll explained serenely, oblivious to the shivering Daisya (warily eyeing the wrapped katana swung over my back, I noted with a small smirk) and my coldness. "You don't expect us to walk across the waters, do you, Yuu?"

"_I told you_—" I began angrily, annoyed that the two of them apparently refused to listen to my request.

"Ah, but you'll always be little Yuu-kun to me!" Tiedoll sobbed, taking it upon himself to wrap his arms around me in a tight embrace.

"Shishou, stop it!" Daisya cried in alarm. "You'll choke him!"

_This_, I thought with the greatest remorse while reserving a slot of hatred directed towards Tiedoll while Daisya attempted to pry Tiedoll's arms off me and I tried in vain to break loose of the older man's grip, _was going to be a long journey_.

_**To be continued**_

* * *

**A/N**: Hopefully you'll see faster updates from me for this story now :D

**Special thanks to**: Everystep, blood-stained-rag-doll, pizzaslices, Fallen Angel WIngs, Anrai, pika318

**Disclaimer**: _DGM_ belongs to Hoshino Katsura

* * *

.moose


	8. Sea Voyage

_Chapter 7_

**Sea Voyage**

**

* * *

**_**Previously:**_

This_, I thought with the greatest remorse while reserving a slot of hatred directed towards Tiedoll while Daisya attempted to pry Tiedoll's arms off me and I tried in vain to break loose of the older man's grip, _was going to be a long journey.

* * *

Seasickness took me by surprise. Unaccustomed to the strange rocking motions of the ship as we inched across the ocean, I found myself constantly bedridden, hand clutching a bucket and stomach contracting ominously. Much to my grievance, Daisya had a great laugh over my ill state, and Tiedoll fussed over me so much I was beginning to think I was some delicate plant that would shatter at the faintest touch.

One benefit that arose from this frustrating situation was the constant presence of Jean-Paul Lambert, a Frenchman who was traversing the world. Due to his itinerant journeys, he had learned the customs and languages of many nations—one of which was Japan. It was to my delight that he had accidentally stumbled into my room and, upon conversing with me, began to teach me to read and write Japanese. Slowly, the black squiggles and dashes in shishou's books began to make sense. Though I did not like to admit it, I eagerly looked forward to Lambert's lessons each day in hopes of gradually understanding the secret behind the lotus.

The other benefit was Tiedoll's stories about the Exorcists and Innocence. I once asked to hold my Innocence. Expecting the old man to staunchly refuse, I was pleased that he agreed and even allowed me to take possession of it for the rest of the journey. Upon touching the transparent sphere, which was roughly the size of my hand, I found that it was surprisingly cool to the touch and oddly liquid-like despite its solid state, as though it had silky tentacles gently caressing my palm. Through the soft green glow of the spherical veil, I could see two papery-white rings floating inside the box and surrounding a pearl-like object.

Still gently holding the Innocence and staring in awe at its mysterious beauty, I asked old Tiedoll how it was going to be incorporated into a weapon.

"That, Yuu-kun," he replied, "will be a task for the Asia Headquarters. Their scientists aren't as up to par as those from the Main Branch, but I hear they have some excellent sword-makers."

In my state of wondrous stupor, I decided just this once to blatantly ignore his use of my given name.

----------

I had the dream that night.

It is the same environment: the same blood-stained lake, the same dark sky, the same grinning face swimming into focus, still leering into my face. I spot the green glow of my Innocence floating almost lazily on the now-visible shore a short distance away. Not too far away from the Innocence is the glass hourglass containing the newly-blossomed lotus. My heart skips a beat at first glance of the flower.

_Long time no see, Yuu,_ the face states serenely in its ghostly voice,_ How have you been?_

'Go away,' I snap.

The grin, if possible, widens.

_I wouldn't be unkind to me if I were you,_ the face responds. _I may just be the key to what you're looking for._

'The lotus? The curse?' I said quickly. 'What of it?'

_It's for you to figure out, Yuu_, the face says placidly. _You should know this already._

I sigh—how uncharacteristic of me—and look in the direction of the lotus. It spreads its pink petals ever so slightly.

----------

In six days' worth of recovery, I was finally able to stand and traverse the wooden deck of the ship. Sea travel wasn't so bad, after all: the salty sea breeze gave a wonderfully crisp, refreshing feeling, and the swooshing rush of the ocean water below us was rejuvenating in its own way. Feeling rather content—the first time in a long while—I leaned against the railing and gazed off into the horizon, idly observing the creases and swells of the ocean waves and the beautiful tinge of teal and emerald and blue, blue, blue, and just simply relishing this state of peace and bliss. I closed my eyes and allowed a smile (rare these days for me, I admitted) to grace my features. No Daisya, no Tiedoll to bother me, just the blue, blue, blue sky and the majestic sea to keep me company.

"Isn't the sea beautiful?"

I jerked, good mood suddenly ruined, and opened my eyes in annoyance at the source of the disruptive voice. A boy around my age with startling red hair had stationed himself at the railing and was gazing off in the distance as well. He was dressed in large, strange robes the color of amber autumn leaves with a creamy-white scarf that fluttered wildly in the wind. An eye patch covered his right eye; the other eye—bright green and sparkling in the sunlight—reminding me of the one jewel that kaa-san had treasured so much. I scowled.

"Of course it is," I snorted. "There's no need to tell me."

The boy glanced at me, annoying me further with his casual and calm glance.

"My, aren't you the rude one," he said serenely with such a despicable tone of superior arrogance.

"Che."

Perhaps simply ignoring him would do the trick. I looked away and stared in exaggerated fascination at the seagull that had perched on the same railing a short distance away.

"What's your name?" the boy questioned after a blissful minute of silence.

"Kanda," I replied shortly, stilling staring at the bird, which was now preening its feathers.

"Hm, a Japanese name." —I twitched— "My name is Brann. Nice to meet you."

"Hmph."

"Well, now, Yuu-kun!" Tiedoll's voice suddenly rang out. "Why are you being such an antisocial humbug?"

"Yuu?" Brann said curiously. "I thought you said your name is Kanda?"

"It _is_ Kanda," I growled, "and I'm _not_—"

"Anyway, Yuu-kun!" Tiedoll broke in cheerfully, clapping his hands for effect. "I'd like you to meet Bookman," —he gestured towards a short, old man with panda-like marks around his eyes and hair that stuck straight up; he too was dressed in large brown robes— ", and this young one here" —now he inclined his head towards Brann— "is his apprentice."

"Bookman?" I repeated quizzically.

"To put it simply, we record unwritten history," the short old man replied in a voice grated with age, "such as the Holy War in which you will fight. The Bookman clan has long been a supporter of the Black Order, and Brann and I will continue the tradition."

Mulling this over, I realized that—of course!—not all of humankind could learn about the existence of the terrible Akuma or else the world would break into panic and chaos. Just leave it to a select group of compatible Innocence users to protect all of humankind even without its knowledge, though the Exorcists' efforts—_our_ efforts—would not be truly forgotten. I had a fleeting respect for Brann, who was after all partaking in this treasured recording of history that could have nearly been wholly forgotten.

Before I could say anything in response, the ship suddenly shuddered. Sea foam crashed against its solid sides as the sky darkened into an ominous shade of gray, gray, and more gray… Someone screamed. I twirled around, swiftly scanning the overcast heavens until—

"There, shishou!" Daisya shouted, running up to us and pointing towards the front of the ship. "Akuma!"

Sure enough, those horrendous creatures—loud, clanking, hideous, and as gray as the sky itself—descended upon the ship, their blank expressions and spikes aimed straight at us.

Everyone moved into action. Bookman and Brann immediately began to shepherd all the frightened passengers on the deck into the lower levels of the ship. Tiedoll took out a pair of chisels from his bag and slammed them together to produce a bright light; Daisya flipped out a bell tucked in his coat and skillfully kicked it upwards, activating his Innocence with a flash of yellow and a melodic chime that transformed it into a large ringing sphere. My hands too moved… only to realize that I was the only one without a weapon.

Frozen in place, my first reaction was to panic, to yield to the sheer terror of seeing those monsters again, to gag up sour bile and whimper like a wounded animal desperately clinging to the last remaining wisps of life. _Run and hide, Kanda. Just run away and hide. _I backed away slowly and stumbled and fell over a topped bucket, still staring at the blank faces of the Akuma and reliving those terrible memories, burning flesh, snapping flames, unbearable pain, thick with fresh blood. No, no, I had to get away, had to hide somewhere safe! _Kanda, you have to live, you have to run!_ I hastily scrambled back to my feet and yelled out when the ship shook again and I fell against the center pole that held up the white masts, my palms flat out against the smooth wood that was still wet from the crashing waves and as cool as my Innocence. _Wait._ I couldn't run. My fingers gripped the sides of the pole. _Kanda, just go and hide, cower in the shadows like a coward._ The image of the leering face flickered into my mind. _Cower, _it jeered, _just like that night when you couldn't protect Yuumi!_ It was a slap in the face. I couldn't run away. After all, hadn't I promised myself that I would become strong enough to protect everyone when I shed my past skin and took on the brave front of my family name?

My mind was clear, clear as the beautiful blue, blue skies shimmering above the ocean. Nimbly dodging falling debris from Akuma being destroyed by Daisya and Tiedoll, I dashed to the lower levels of the ship. I pushed through the crowds of terrified passengers, ignoring the startled cries and angry glances and only seeing the room where I had rested to recover from seasickness. The distance that had seemed to be short and limiting during my convalescence now seemed impossibly long and tiring. My feet pounded against the wood, my breaths came out in huffs, my arms shoved desperately against the hoards of people. I had to get it—

The ship shuddered with another ear-splitting explosion, and many passengers screamed. An infant began to wail. I stumbled and lost my balance. A woman fell against me, and her weight made my right shoulder slam into the wall. As she sank to the ground, shivering in terror and hands clasped together in a whispered prayer, I hopped away, wincing at the pain. Though the ship continued to waver and shake, I continued to move with the grace of a weathered soldier; perhaps my falling prey to seasickness had been a blessing, I thought to myself in this single instant, since I found I had learned to adapt to the motions.

Another jerk of the ship almost made me fall again, though this time I caught the rim of the doorway… to my room! Amazed that I had not even realized my safe passage, I rushed into the room and searched through the fallen, cluttered articles with my sharp eyes. There! My focus was narrowed on the slender, violet shape of the covered katana my former shishou had given me; I snatched it. Simultaneously, my free hand found its way to the cupboard where I kept my precious Innocence in a mahogany case that I had picked up earlier in an abandoned Japanese village. I removed the comfortingly cool Innocence from its intricate case and slipped the katana out from the cloth. Hoping for the best, I touched the Innocence against the uncovered katana, whose silvery blade began to glow the lightest shade of green.

_**To be continued**_

* * *

**A/N**: For clarification… I chose a random name ("Brann" means "fire" in Norwegian) for Lavi because he supposedly hasn't adopted his Lavi alias yet and so isn't the cheerful Lavi we all know. Why "fire," you ask? Well, I thought of his fire seal… and also, I couldn't find a nice-sounding translation of "lion," which is what "Lavi" in Hebrew means to begin with. -grins sheepishly-

**Special thanks to**: pika318, wolfpup026, Uzumaki and Hyuuga girls, Anrai, Valitiel, and or-chan for reviews/subscriptions! Please continue to read and review :D

**Disclaimer**: _DGM_ belongs to Hoshino Katsura

* * *

.moose


	9. Synchronization

_Chapter 8_

**Synchronization**

**

* * *

**_**Previously:**_

_I removed the comfortingly cool Innocence from its intricate case and slipped the katana out from the cloth. Hoping for the best, I touched the Innocence against the uncovered katana, whose silvery blade began to glow the lightest shade of green._

* * *

At first, there was nothing. Then I felt a sort of swelling inside me, a sensation that I could not identify until I realized that it was my _soul_ that was pulsing along with the Innocence. Quivering in the same rhythm, the Innocence-katana pair began to meld together as though the Innocence itself had melted away into the metal of the sword. The green glow grew more intense. I gripped the katana more tightly, willing the phenomenon to continue, willing the blade to absorb my Innocence and turned it into a temporary weapon I could use right now _to destroy those Akuma_.

A final pulse. Then the phenomenon completed itself in a final swoosh and a final flash of emerald before I found myself standing the middle of the cluttered room, holding out a glowing katana with sleek, black markings.

I did it.

Allowing a momentary victory grin to pass over my face, I turned to the window and shot out towards the open. The blank face of an Akuma stared at my sudden entrance into the battlefield.

_Raise your blade._

I held up the katana and glared right back at the monster.

_Now slice it!_

I obeyed, savoring the immense satisfaction of cutting into the steel body of the Akuma. Then an explosion. In midair, I nimbly wheeled out of the way and landed lightly on the mast of the ship.

"Wha—" Daisya gasped from below, on the deck. "Yu—I mean—Kanda! How did you get that weapon?"

"I merged my Innocence with my katana," I replied before jumping up to slash at another incoming Akuma.

"You show-off!" Daisya laughed, having wiped away his surprise. "I can't let you have all the fun. Go, Charity Bell!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the glowing, ringing ball fly upwards and shoot through the metal bodies of several Akuma in one shot. They immediately began to shudder and cringe in pain at a bell-like sound before all exploding.

"Hm, not bad," I muttered.

I jumped off the mast to destroy another two Akuma near me before narrowing dodging a glowing white vine.

"Ah, sorry, sorry, Yuu-kun," Tiedoll called out apologetically while giving me a bright smile. "I didn't expect you to be there!"

"That's shishou's Innocence, Maker of Eden. It's quite powerful," Daisya explained while kicking his Charity Bell towards another group of Akuma.

I stared at a massive giant, also glowing in the same white shade, that suddenly emerged from the depths of the dark waters. This was probably also part of the Maker of Eden.

_Such a frightening power this silly old man wields_, I mused in a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

"Better avoid it while you can!" the Turkish boy continued, dodging another fling of the vines.

I followed his lead by ducking, feeling the wind of the snaking plant fly past over me. My eyes followed the progress of the vines that were flailing around higher and higher… in the skies! I grinned, an idea having formed in my mind. Springing to my feet, I swiftly climbed onto one of the vines and ran my way to the top. The effort proved to be quite exhausting; it was difficult enough just to grip with one hand and find a good footing on the spikes, but my right shoulder was also beginning to throb from when the woman fell against me as I was heading towards my room below the deck. Sensing the presence of an Akuma behind me, I whipped around and cut it quickly, already accustomed to the feel of slashing through its steel body.

Then came the horrible sound of a cackling voice.

Chills ran down my spine. I snapped my head to the right and saw a gray gargantuan bird with an elongated neck, charcoal gray wings of rock-hard feathers, red gleaming eyes, and a beak like the muzzle of a snarling dog. On its chest was a staring face with a star on the forehead, just like one on an ordinary Akuma.

I froze. It couldn't be what I thought it was… right—?

"Kanda!" Daisya yelled from far down below, panic instilled in his voice. "Get back down here. That's a Level Two Akuma! You can't handle it."

The bird Akuma turned its cold crimson gaze—the color of blood!—on me and laughed.

"Aww, what a cute little boy," it cooed in a mechanical voice. "Are you a new Exorcist? I'll give you a tutorial on how to be a good one!"

It opened its canine jaws and fired out a blue energy ball. Startled, I managed to dodge it in time but nearly lost my grip on the vine's spike I was holding onto. Through the sizzling of the Akuma's attacks and the sounds of battle, I could hear the crash of the ocean waves churning below me. My heart throbbed wildly, echoing in my eardrums. I felt my hands growing clammy and slippery with perspiration.

"Ah, not too shabby, are you?" the Akuma sneered. "How about this one?"

It spread its gray wings and flapped once. A large slice of hardened air flew towards me. In a moment of fear mingled with indecision, I remained frozen and merely stared at the attack, my mind utterly screaming, screaming, _screaming_—_I'm going to die, I'm going to die—_I began to lose my grip—_I don't want to die yet—!!!_

In the nick of time, another white vine blocked the air's progress, even flicking it away with ease. The force of shoving away the hardened air pushed me off the vine. My hands wildly snatched at thin air, my heart still pounding quickly at the recent prospect of actually _dying_, my mouth wide open in a silent scream, my hand still holding onto the katana with dear life—

I landed on something soft.

"Yuu," Tiedoll said from somewhere near me.

I glanced at him, to the left. Cold sweat dripped down my face. I was shivering. My hands, clammy and pale, couldn't stop trembling.

"I'll take care of this one," he said with rare sternness, his eyes glinting with quiet anger. "Just sit tight and don't move."

I could only nod and glance weakly around me. As the sounds of battle clashed above me and the cluster of vines I was sitting on, I set my gaze on a familiar-looking man sitting against a pole. He looked sickly, with black stars dotting his arms, neck, face…

_Lambert_, I realized with a start.

Scrambling off the bed of vines—nearly slipping on the debris of the deck—legs feeling shaky and seemingly unable to support my own weight though I was clearly walking—knowing deep inside that something was wrong and yet denying it at the same time—I called out his name. I kneeled next to him and dropped my katana to the ground. The man slowly turned his head to face me.

"Ah, Kanda-kun," he smiled. "It's a pity I couldn't teach you more Japanese."

"No, no…" I muttered. "It was good… I learned a lot…"

Lambert retained his sad smile and glistening eyes.

"I suppose this is farewell, Kanda-kun," he whispered. "Perhaps I wasn't meant to traverse the entire world, after all.

"Make sure you do it for me!"

His laugh was hollow, nearly devoid of life.

"No, no…" I continued, my arms quivering and tears beginning to stream down my face. "You can't die… Don't…"

_Don't leave me too!!_ I screamed silently. _I don't want to lose you!!!!_

"Sayonara, Kanda-kun."

With that said, Lambert's body softened and dissolved into a pile of dust.

----------

I was still in my state of shock when Tiedoll destroyed the Level Two Akuma and returned to my side.

"Are you alright, Yuu?" he said, still in his serious tone.

I could only nod. And stare. Just stare and stare. Gone. Lambert was gone. No longer existent, in this world. My heart pounded as hollowly as his laugh had been. Lifeless. Empty. _Gone._ I felt tired, heavy, oh so heavy, like a weight had been imposed on me. I felt like sinking, dispersing into nothingness just like he had. _He was gone. _

"This is what happens to people hit by Akuma bullets?" I muttered.

Tiedoll's silence answered my question. I lowered my head.

Suddenly, like the sweeping flow of a river, the power I had felt all this time leaked out and back into the Innocence. I shivered and collapsed, suddenly left without any strength, onto the deck on my back. Meekly, I watched the katana shudder before it expelled the Innocence from its depths. In a single instant, the blade reverted to its original silvery state and then shattered, wearily dispersing its many shards upon the debris-covered deck. Vaguely, through my fatigue, I heard Daisya _ooh_-ing and _ahh_-ing and Tiedoll not saying anything, remaining unusually silent, while Bookman—when did he get here?—expressed a sense of surprise and admiration.

"Amazing," the old history recorder was saying in a hushed voice, filled with awe. "A young child such as himself is capable of successfully activating his Innocence without proper Exorcist training!"

Through my darkening sight, I saw Brann merely look at me with his single bright, calm green eye before I fell to the exhaustion and into my mind's dark seas of unconsciousness, still ringing faintly with the stream of distant, admiring voices and the saddening images of the broken katana… and the pile of dust that had once been Lambert.

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The rest of the journey proved uneventful; in any case, I was unconscious for the better part of it. Tiedoll explained that was due to my pre-training synchronization with my Innocence. Without having undergone the proper procedures, my body had been unable to take the burden of yielding the Innocence for too long. The shattered katana, said Tiedoll, was the result of the unsuitable pairing of an Innocence and a weapon. Although I knew a sword that had been smashed into pieces was virtually useless, I insisted on wrapping it in a little sack. Despite the ironies and knowing how silly it sounded, I wanted to keep the only memory of my homeland close to me; it was the only physical link I had to shishou now.

We reached the shores of China during the afternoon of a fair autumn day, yet the harbor was bustling with activity: the shouts of the workers unloading cargo, the joyful cries of reunited families, the clattering of rickshaws and carriages upon the bumpy roads. The rays of the sun in the dusty blue sky casted slanted shadows of the voyagers and workers.

Having stepped down from the ship, I watched my own elongated shadow on the wooden plank of the harbor. In the nebulous gray form that was my head's shadow, a patch of white appeared. It twisted and bent itself until it separated into three parts and formed a grinning face with two eyes. I jumped at the familiar sight and nearly toppled Daisya over, who had come up from behind me. Ignoring his yelps, I glanced back at the ground where my shadow was, heart beating fast, but the face did not appear again. Perhaps I had been hallucinating…

Pushing the thought out of my mind, I joined Tiedoll and Daisya, who was giving me dirty looks, in the plain-looking wooden carriage that was waiting for us. Before stepping up, I noted that a silvery, ornate cross (the crest, or the Rose Cross, of the Black Order, Daisya grumpily informed me when I asked) was painted on the sides of the carriage. Apparently, the Black Order simply had to add a touch of its own on an ordinary carriage for the purposes of differentiating it from the other ones.

"Will you be heading towards the Asia Headquarters?" Bookman inquired, looking up at Tiedoll with Brann standing next to the former man.

"Yes," the said general nodded in affirmation, "Kanda" —I stared at Tiedoll for his use of my family name— "needs formal training and a weapon of sorts. And you?"

"We'll head north to Shanghai," Bookman replied. "There appears to be some new developments in the city."

"Best wishes and safe travelling," Tiedoll said.

Bookman turned his steady gaze on me.

"This one seems to be very promising," he stated. "Take good care of him, General Tiedoll."

"Of course," Tiedoll cried, suddenly grabbing me in another tight embrace, "I have to look after my dear son while he becomes an official Exorcist! Oh, this makes me so proud!"

"Oi," I growled, "I'm not your son!"

Daisya placed a hand on my shoulder, his anger having disappeared at seeing my suffering.

"Don't worry, Kanda," he grinned, "shishou is always like this. You just have to bear with it."

"…che."

Smiling, the hooded driver, who was dressed in beige robes, turned away from the horrid spectacle and prepared for departure. I finally managed to loosen myself from Tiedoll's embrace and proceeded to grouchily sit as far away from the man as possible with my arms crossed. Though I did not turn around, I knew that Bookman and Brann were silently watching us. I wondered if I would ever see them—these recorders of unwritten history—again.

The driver flicked the reins, and the two horses pulling the carriage went into a trot, leaving behind the harbor and heading towards the Asia Branch of the Black Order.

_**To be continued**_

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**A/N**: I must say, I had a difficult time writing out the battle scene aboard the ship; I hope it was satisfactory. Additionally, as a forewarning, I see life becoming burdensome in the near future, so expect slightly slower updates ): KANDA IS AWESOME NONETHELESS.

**Special thanks to**: coolgirl200, or-chan, Everystep, Valitiel, pika318, SeptemberSweetness, and pizzaslices. As a side note, feel free to leave reviews that include not only effusive compliments -nudge nudge- but also criticisms. It's also nice to read about where I could improve in regards to character and plot development. See you in the virtual world of review replies!

**Disclaimer**: _DGM_ belongs to Hoshino Katsura

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.moose


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